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I ALWAYS pay attention to the Missus, but I am often reading/thinking about my next hammock project while I am paying attention. I like to think of it as mental multi-tasking.

It's a two-way street though. If you are thick skinned try this: when your non-hammocky significant other is on the computer or watching tv, talk to her/him about your upcoming hammock project or some of your hammock thoughts or your most heartfelt hammock feelings. Pay attention to eye contact--almost non-existant. Now count the number of "uh-huh's". Gentlemen, while she's heard the word hammock, her mind has written a discourse on the Twilight series. Ladies, he's crunching stats for Fantasy Football.

So don't feel too bad--unless, of course, the topic of conversation is something relevant to you both, like... say, your children or your 20th wedding anniversary. Then heaven spread it's mercy upon you!

Tim, Have you been spying at my house? When I say hammock to my wife, I can almost see a little man inside her head locking the doors and shutting off the lights. Hate to distract her from the latest cute kitten picture someone has posted on her Facebook page!

Oh so guilty. Of course I try to explain to my wife that I'm multitasking but she's wise enough to know that no man is capable of this.

The Missus is adamant that NOBODY, man or woman, can multitask--says it's just people trying to do two different things poorly. So, if I try to tell her I'm multitasking I place myself in even greater risk. Lately, though, when it looks like she's about to catch me, I fall to the floor and go limp as if I just had some kind of narcoleptic fit. After a minute or so I pop up and ask, "What were we talking about?" She usually rolls her eyes and walks away as I smile smugly to myself and think, "I think she bought it."

The Missus is adamant that NOBODY, man or woman, can multitask--says it's just people trying to do two different things poorly. So, if I try to tell her I'm multitasking I place myself in even greater risk. Lately, though, when it looks like she's about to catch me, I fall to the floor and go limp as if I just had some kind of narcoleptic fit. After a minute or so I pop up and ask, "What were we talking about?" She usually rolls her eyes and walks away as I smile smugly to myself and think, "I think she bought it."